


Painful Rehabilitation

by Mangoesaregood8



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Alcohol dependence, Angst, Anxiety, Bullying, Depression, Flashbacks, Hospitals, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rehab, Withdrawal, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangoesaregood8/pseuds/Mangoesaregood8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamish didn't have a problem.  He wasn't an alcoholic.  He just used alcohol to help him stay sane.  No one else saw it that way though.  Fergus was tired of rushing him to the hospital for alcohol poisoning, and the doctors were too.  The doctors recommend he go to rehab to break his addiction, but every fiber of Hamish's being screams no.  The doctor's don't give him much of a choice and Hamish packs his bags to spend the next month of his life, away from home and struggling to break his addiction.  Alcohol poisoning may not be enough to kill a reaper, but it's still not good for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was never his intention to drink himself comatose. He knew he could hold his liquor better than that. It was his only means of coping, and Hamish wasn’t going to let go of it so easily. It was the one thing in the world that helped him keep his sanity. The one thing that could never turn him away. He knew his body could take the abuse. He wasn’t human anymore. Something as simple as alcohol poisoning couldn’t kill him.

But Fergus had had enough.

Hamish woke up to a harsh light beaming down into his eyes. He tried to move his hand to shield them, but he was tied down by the numerous wires that were checking his vitals. He didn’t know why they were necessary, but the hospital staff assured him many times that they were important.

Other than the blinding light, the other thing he noticed was the pain. His stomach felt like it was trying to cave in on itself, and his throat felt like it was on fire. He knew what the pain was from, but he couldn’t understand why it was so intense. He had had his stomach pumped before. Twice before actually. Usually the nurses would give him some sort of painkiller before he woke up so he wouldn’t be in too much discomfort, but this felt too strong for him to be on painkillers. Maybe they finally listened to him when he said he didn’t need them.

Hamish pushed his head up slowly and blinked his eyes a few times to try and make sense of his surroundings. He knew he was in the hospital, but how did he end up there. Was he alone?

A short, deep grunt from the corner of the room answered the later of the two questions.

“Fergus?” Hamish’s voice was hoarse. His throat was so dry it felt like it was sticking together. He tried clearing his throat in an effort to gain some volume back. “Is that you?”

He heard another grunt and the sound of a chair creaking as it was relived of its strenuous weight.

Hamish turned towards the source of the noise, but everything in front of him was a blur. He cursed under his breath when he realized he didn’t have his glasses. The nurses would have taken them when he was admitted so he wouldn’t be able to accidently roll over onto them.

“Do you want these?” A deep voice asked. Much deeper that Hamish’s baritone.

“If they’re my glasses, then aye. I need those.”

A large blur moved closer to Hamish, and then he felt the comforting weight of his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He pushed them into place and looked up. The large, solid blur in front of him turned into Fergus. He was wearing the blue and gray sweater that Hamish had made for him years ago. The same sweater he was wearing during their last fight earlier that night. At least Hamish hoped he’d only been unconscious for a few hours.

“How long was I out this time?” Hamish asked. He carefully maneuvered his arms around the tubes and wires so he could push himself up into a sitting position.

“Two days,” came Fergus’s curt response. 

Hamish sighed. “Really? Two days? That’s got to be a new record.”

Fergus wasn’t impressed. “This isn’t good for you.” His words were slow and deliberate, just like always. Though this time they seemed a bit more deliberate than usual. Fergus was still upset.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not as big of a deal as the doctors make it out to be. We don’t need to breathe, so passing out, really isn’t an issue.” He pulled the blankets around him. The room was freezing. Or was it just the intensity of Fergus’s glare that was chilling the room. Hamish had never seen him look so cold before.

“But you need your liver.”

“Aye, that’s true but-“

“No buts,” Fergus interrupted.

Hamish was stunned into silence. “Alright then.”

Fergus looked down and messed with the end of the sleeve of his sweater as he thought carefully about what he had to say next.

“You can’t keep doing this. It’s not good for you.”

“I’ll be fine.” He knew Fergus had a tendency to repeat himself, especially when he was frustrated or upset, but it didn’t make it any less trying.

“The doctors said you need to get help.”

“Help for what?” Hamish asked. He could hear his voice, as weak as it was, rising with annoyance. He took a breath to calm himself before continuing. “I don’t need help.”

“They said you should go to rehab.”

“Rehab?” Hamish scoffed. “I don’t need to go to bloody rehab. I’m not an addict.”

“I think you should go,” Fergus said.

Hamish shook his head. “I’m not going to rehab. I don’t need to be locked away in a loony bin. I don’t have a problem.”

“You need to stop drinking. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“No, I’m not. I’m not a human anymore Fergus, and I haven’t been for almost two centuries. Who cares what happens to my liver. It’s not like it’s going to kill me.” Hamish could barely hold back his anger. He only used the alcohol to help. He wasn’t addicted to it. He wasn’t an alcoholic. He didn’t need to be locked up somewhere. He was fine. He kept repeating the last part to himself. He could feel his heart starting to beat fasting and harder in his chest.

“Next time it happens, you won’t have a choice.”

“Then it sounds like I don’t have much of a choice right now, do I?”

“It’s not a bad place. I think you should go.”

Hamish scowled and held his head in his hands, furiously rubbing at his temples. He wasn’t about to let the doctors lock him up like that.

“And I can come see you. You can call me too,” Fergus said.

Hamish knew Fergus wasn’t too good with phone calls, and though it didn’t seem like it, the thought was appreciated.

“I can’t go to rehab.” Hamish shook his head slowly.

Fergus sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to sit on any of the wires and wrapped one of his arms around Hamish’s smaller frame. “It will be okay. They want to help you. It’s different now.”  
Hamish was hoping that they would be a whole hell of a lot different. He used to work in an insane asylum in the early 1800’s. His fear of becoming one of the patients ended up being a large factor in his early death at age 30. He looked like he hardly aged in the past two hundred years, despite his heavy drinking.

A knock on the door gave Hamish brief notice that he had a visitor.

"Ah, Mr. Caimbeulach. It's good to see you're awake." A doctor with silver framed glasses and dark hair, holding a clipboard, walked into the room. "We were wondering when you might wake up."

"I see you all were plenty busy while I was out." Hamish gave him the biggest scowl he could muster. His short five foot build didn't help much with intimidating others, but he still tried.

"Yes, well we had to make sure you would be alright. Not only now but in the future." The doctor looked down at his clipboard and flipped through some of the pages. 

Hamish could only imagine how many other pages there were filed away elsewhere. 

"So locking me up in a loony bin was your best option?" Hamish growled.

"Don't think of it as a 'loony bin'," the doctor replied. "We aren't sending you to a mental hospital. We want to send you to a rehabilitation center. You'll be there with other reapers who need the same kind of help that you do. And it's located in a very nice part of the country. Right on the coast. I think you'll enjoy the scenery."

"Is this all the information I get to go on? Word of mouth?" Hamish asked. "I don't get one a brochure or anything?"

"We figured you might rip it up if we just gave it to you right off the bat." The doctor removed something to the clipboard and handed it over to Hamish. It was a dark blue folder.

Hamish took it and was surprised by how heavy it was. He opened it up to find packets of information and a brochure about a place called Seaside Addiction Rehabilitation Center in Skelmorlie Scotland.

"Skelmorlie? Ain't there a place in Glasgow I can go to? That's almost an hour away!"

"I don't mind taking you there," Fergus said.

Hamish looked at him. "Are you sure? Remember you have to drive back home. You're sure you can handle that?"

Fergus simply nodded.

Hamish sighed and leafed through some of the papers in the folder. "I don't really have much of a choice, do I?"

The doctor shook his head. "You always have a choice. We can't really force you to get help, but we strongly recommend that you attend. If we can break your addiction to alcohol and help you find more constructive coping mechanisms for you condition, you'll be much happier in the long run Mr. Caimbeulach."

"So I'm never going to be able to drink again?" Hamish ran his fingers through his hair. "What about all of the alcohol I already have? That shite's not cheap."

"That will be for the doctors and staff at the rehabilitation center to decide. Though for now, we do need an answer. Would you like to get help?"

"It's not like you all are gonna stop bothering me until I do go. I might as well get it over with now." He huffed and leaned back against the bed. "How long am I stuck there?"

"That will be completely up to you, but you must at least stay for two weeks. After that, they can evaluate your progress and decide from there if you need to stay longer or if you are able to go home. The average duration for one's stay is around a month though."

"A month? You can't be serious. I can't take off from work for that long! We're short staffed as it is and-"

"I'll take care of it," Fergus interrupted.

"That's a lot of work to cover, Fergus. You can't do it with just three people."

Fergus grunted and returned his gaze down to the bed sheets. This conversation wasn't going to go far with the doctor in the room.

"Well Mr. Caimbeulach? Have you made a decision?" The doctor asked. He was softly tapping his pen against the clipboard.

Hamish rubbed at his temples. "I guess I'm going..."

"Alright then." The doctor scribbled down something on the clipboard before standing up. "We'll start making arrangements for your stay. Since you're awake now, we can send you home later today for you to pack your clothes and other things you might need. You'll find a list of what is and isn't allowed at the facility in your folder. If they have a spot open for you, which they most likely will, we will call you tonight to let you know when you need to arrive and a little about check in procedures."

"Thanks..."

"Can I get anything for you before I go?" The doctor asked.

"Aye. Mind getting me a glass of water? My throat's been killing me."

"Of course. I'll have that brought in for you in just a minute." The doctor wrote down one last thing before leaving the room.

Hamish turned to Fergus. Fergus was still looking down at the bed.

"What do you think about all of this Fergus?"

Fergus remained silent. Hamish could tell by his facial expression that it was all still sinking in for him.

"It's a lot to think about."

A nurse walked in and handed Hamish a glass of water. He took it thankfully and downed the entire glass. His throat instantly felt better and he could feel his voice returning to him. 

"I know it's going to be a lot of strain on you at work. Are you sure you'll be able to handle it all?"

Fergus nodded. "I'll take care of it." He shifted over to slip his hand around Hamish's.

Hamish gave the larger man a small smile. Fergus's hand was warm and rough around his. Fergus's palms may have been a bit scratchy from his centuries of sword wielding, but it was comforting to Hamish.

"I'll send you the number to my room when I get there. That way you can call me if you need me. And you'll pick up when I call you," Hamish said with a small chuckle.

He wasn't sure who this would be harder on. Hamish had been taking care of Fergus for years. His background in medicine made him an ideal caretaker for Fergus. They didn't get along at all when they first met. It made living together rough. Fergus hardly ever spoke to Hamish. Their communication was laughable at best. But as they learned more about each other, they grew closer. They learned how to work with each other's strengths and weaknesses. As Fergus became more and more comfortable with Hamish's presences, he started talking more. Something the doctor's thought was a miracle. 

But Fergus wasn't the only one that was being taken care of. As Fergus got to know Hamish, Fergus did what he could to help Hamish as well. On the long nights when Hamish couldn't sleep because of his racing thoughts keeping him awake, Fergus would pull him close and hold the smaller man. The first time this happened, Hamish was stunned. He never would have guessed that Fergus could be so nurturing. Fergus would hold Hamish until he fell asleep. Even after he was asleep, Fergus would stay up to make sure the younger man slept soundly, often petting his hair to try and keep him soothed.

Their lives were so entwined with each other's that Hamish wasn't sure how the separation would affect them. It was going to be a long month. A long month full of anxious and paranoid phone calls.

"It's going to be weird going to sleep at night and you not being there," Hamish said. "The bed is awfully cold when you're not around."

"They can give you more blankets if you get cold," Fergus said.

"Aye, I suppose that's true."

Hamish looked over to Fergus who was looking right at him this time. 

"It will be okay," Fergus said. "It's going to help you."

"I know it's supposed to help. I just don't like the idea. I worked so hard to stay out of hospitals and not I'm willingly checking into one?" He buried his face in Fergus's arm.

"They're not going to hurt you."

Hamish was silent. As much as he wanted to believe Fergus that the doctors at the rehabilitation center wouldn't hurt him, he just couldn't. His fears were too deeply rooted.

"Do you think you could take care of Sheldon while I'm gone? And maybe send me pictures of him every so often?" Hamish asked.

Sheldon was his pet turtle. He had bought him about a year ago and would play with him every day. Owning a pet was another suggestion of the doctors'. One that Hamish was much more on board with. Fergus would have much rather they have picked a cat, especially since there were so many strays that they fed outside of their house, but Hamish's allergies prevented them from picking anything with fur.

"I'll take care of him."

"Thank you."

Fergus held Hamish close and ran his fingers through the curling red locks to help try and keep the younger man calm. 

A nurse came in a few hours later to disconnect Hamish from all of the machinery so he could be discharged.

"We have good news for you Mr. Caimbeulach. The center has room for you, so you'll be able to check in tomorrow morning at eight. I know it's a little last minute, but you really just need to bring your clothes  
and toiletries," the nurse explained.

"Tomorrow morning?" Hamish felt all of the blood in his body run cold. He was leaving tomorrow? He thought he would at least get a week or so to get everything settled before he had to leave. Not just a night.

"Yes, tomorrow morning. The sooner we can get you check in, the sooner you can get the help you need."

Hamish stayed silent. 

"Though for now, you're free to go home and enjoy the rest of your evening." The nurse left to give him some privacy to change out of his robe.

Fergus handed Hamish his shirt and his kilt. Hamish wasn't much one for wearing trousers. He only owned a few pairs. He put on his shirt and buttoned it up before folding the kilt on the bed. It took a bit of help from Fergus to get the pleats right on the small mattress.

"Maybe you should take your trousers with you," Fergus suggested.

"Might as well. I don't think I'm gonna have more room than this to fold it in the mornings, will I?" Hamish finished tucking in his shirt and went to look at himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked decent enough. His clothes did anyway.

"Let's just get this over with," Hamish said as he walked back into the main room. I already know I'm not going to sleep well tonight.

He would have too much on his mind to let him fall asleep.

Fergus replied with a grunt and led Hamish to the truck so they could go home and pack. They went over the list together to make sure they didn't pack anything that might be confiscated later.

"I'm not allowed to bring my razor?" Hamish asked, staring at the paper in disbelief. "How am I supposed to shave? Am I supposed to walk around like some wild man?"

"They might have a barber there."

"And I can't bring my mouth wash either. Or my phone? I can barely bring anything to do to keep me entertained either," Hamish complained.

"Let's finish packing your clothes and go to bed," Fergus suggested.

Hamish nodded. "I should try to enjoy my last night in my bed as much as I can."

"You'll be back."

"Yeah but not for a while." Hamish finished folding the last of his shirts and stuffed them, along with his socks into his suitcase. He zipped it closed and sat it up on the wheels. These were the only belongings he would have access to for the next month.

"Let's get some sleep," Fergus said. "We can think about it in the morning."

"Yeah." Hamish nodded and pushed himself to his feet. As much as he wished he could just think about it in the morning, his mind was going to keep him up all night with what ifs. And if he did sleep, his dreams would be plagued with thoughts demented doctors poking and prodding at him for their next twisted experiment. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

It was dark.  So dark that Hamish could practically feel the darkness pressing down on him.  He blinked a few times, wanting to make sure that his eyes were open, but it made no difference.  It was just as dark with his eyes opened as it was when they were closed.

"Where the hell am I?" He asked himself.  He remembered falling asleep with Fergus in their bedroom but he knew he wasn't there anymore.  They usually kept a small night light in their room to keep it from being this dark.  He also couldn't feel Fergus next to him.  The only thing he could feel was a cold, hard surface beneath him.

He tried to sit up so he could find a light switch, flash light, or something to help him see, but something pulling at his wrists prevented him from even sitting up.

"What?"  He tried to move his arms, but they were thoroughly pinned in place. How hadn't he noticed this before?  He gave one more tug, but to no avail.  His arms didn't move an inch.

He tried to move his legs, but just like his arms, they were tied in place.

Hamish was starting to panic a bit.  Fergus wouldn't tie him down to make sure he wouldn't run away, would he?

"Fergus...?" Hamish called out hesitantly in the darkness.  "Are you there?"

There was no response.  Just the sound of Hamish's heartbeat pounding in his own ears.

"Fergus?  Please, this ain't funny."

This time, Hamish could hear a faint chuckle in the distance.  One that sounded nothing like Fergus.

"Nice to see that you're awake Mr. Caimbeulach.  And just in time too," a voice said.

It was a voice that Hamish didn't recognize.

"Who are you?"

"That doesn't matter," the voice responded.

"Like hell it does..." Hamish muttered to himself.

Suddenly, the darkness was gone.  It was replaced by a white light so bright, that Hamish still couldn't see.  It took his eyes a few moments to get adjusted.  After blinking a few times, he looked around. 

The room he was in was plain, with white tile walls and floors.  He looked at his hands.  They had been tied down tightly to the table he was laying with a rope that was starting to painfully dig into his wrist.  As much as he wanted to try and fight and break his binds, he knew it wouldn't do any good.  They were too thick.

"As I was saying, Mr. Caimbeulach, you're just in time." 

A man in a white lab coat suddenly appeared before Hamish, causing him to jump.  He appeared so quickly it was almost as if he had ported into the room.

"In time for what?"

Hamish couldn't see the smile behind the face mask and goggles, but he could hear it in the man's voice.

"The experiment of course!  We've been waiting for you to wake up to get started.  We wanted to help you savor the moment, so we wanted to make sure you'd be awake for every minute of it."

Two more men appeared behind the first man, both clad in the same attire.

"Oh hell no!  You're not experimenting on me, you crazy bastards.  Get away from me!"  He started thrashing around in his bindings, trying to fight off the advancing men, but he was bound so tightly that he could barely wiggle, let alone fight.

"You should be proud Mr. Caimbeulach," the man said.  "You'll get to help further our research.  You'll help so many people."

"I don't give a shite!  Let me go!"

One of the other men was now standing next to Hamish, brandishing a rather large needle.

Hamish's heart was beating so quickly that it felt as though it were roaring in his ears.  He couldn't let them inject him with that needle.  He had no idea what was in it and he had no intentions of finding out.

"Let me go you bastards!"  Hamish could hear the fear in his own voice.  The screams coming from his sounded more that of an animal fighting for its life than human.

"Calm down Hamish," the man said.  "We aren't going to hurt you."

"Let me go!"

"Hamish!"

Hamish bolted upright, his eyes springing open.  He felt a wave of nausea pass over him from his disorientation.  He had just been tied down in that room.  Where was he now?

"Hamish?"

This time, Hamish recognized the voice.

"Fergus?"

"Aye?"

Hamish tried taking a few deep breaths to calm down his breathing.

"You were having a bad dream," Fergus said.

"I know..."

Fergus wrapped an arm around Hamish before pulling the smaller man into his lap.

Hamish didn't resist and practically climbed into Fergus's lap before burying his face into Fergus's shoulder.  It maybe have all been just a dream, but it felt so real to him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Fergus asked.

Hamish shook his head.  He didn't want to think about the dream for longer than he had to.  he just wanted to go back to sleep.  He hated having nightmares like these.  They always made left him waking up and feeling exhausted for the rest of the day.

Fergus held him close, running his fingers through Hamish's hair to help the other man calm down.  "It's almost time to get up.  Do you want to shower together?"

"You're bloody kidding me..." Hamish muttered.  He was hoping he still had a few hours, or at least one hour to go back to bed.  This was not a good start to his day.

"I can warm it up for you," Fergus said.

Hamish was silent for a moment before nodding.  Every muscle in his body felt tense.  The muscles in his back were so tight that they had started throbbing.  Maybe a hot shower would help him loosen up a bit. 

"I'll be back."  Fergus carefully maneuvered Hamish so that he was sitting on the bed again before getting up to start the shower.

He came back a few moments later when the water was warm.  Hamish could feel the heat wafting out of the bathroom.

"It's ready," Fergus said.

Hamish slowly pushed himself out of bed and followed Fergus into the bathroom.

Fergus helped him get undressed and into the shower. 

Hamish closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm spray of water that poured onto him.  The showerhead was positioned up high to accommodate Fergus's tall frame, which could make the angle of the water inconvenient for Hamish, but it was something he learned to live with.  Besides, he wasn't tall enough to reach the shower head to adjust it anyways.

Hamish stayed under the water for a few minutes before he felt Fergus's large, soap covered hands on his back.

"You don't have to do that," Hamish said.

Fergus didn't say anything but continued to rub Hamish's back until it was entirely covered in suds.  Once Hamish's back was thoroughly cleansed, Fergus started rubbing and kneading into the tense muscles.  It hurt a bit, but Hamish could feel them starting to loosen up after a few minutes.  He gave a soft sigh of relief and leaned back into Fergus's hands.

"Feeling better?" Fergus asked after a few moments of silence.

Hamish nodded.  "Aye.  Much better.  Thank you."  He turned to let the water spray over his back to wash away the soap.

The corner's of Fergus's lips twitched upwards before he grabbed his own soap to clean himself.  That was as much of a smile as Hamish would ever get from him.

Once Hamish was finished with his shower, he stepped out onto the bath mat and grabbed his towel before wrapping it around his waist.  He made his way over to the sink to brush his teeth.  Once done, he put it in his suitcase so he wouldn't forget it later.  He never understood the purpose of having a separate toothbrush for traveling, but now he was wishing he had one.

Fergus stepped out of the shower not long after Hamish and turned off the water.  He put on his glasses before grabbing his towel and wrapping it around himself.  He got himself ready for the day while Hamish went around getting dressed and making sure he hadn't left anything that he would need for the next month.

"Hamish, we need to go," Fergus said as he watched Hamish pace back and forth the house.  "We're going to be late."

"I'm almost ready, I'm making sure I didn't forget anything."  That wasn't exactly the truth.  Hamish knew he had everything he needed an hour ago.  He was stalling, trying to prevent them from leaving for as long as he could, and Fergus knew it.

"I can bring you things you left.  We need to leave."

Hamish sighed.  "I know..."

Fergus walked over to stand in front of Hamish and placed his hands on Hamish's shoulders.  "It will be ok."

Hamish nodded and turned to grab his suitcase.  "Let's just get going..."

Fergus nodded and took the suitcase from Hamish and took it to their truck.

Hamish followed Fergus out of the house and locked the door behind them.  There really wasn't any need to lock the door, but it made him feel safer when he was away.  Not that he had anything to worry about.

He climbed into the passenger seat of the truck and strapped himself in. Usually he would be the one driving, but he was in no shape to drive today.  He had enough trouble just getting in the truck today and nearly fell.  He lost his footing as he tried to step up.

Fergus finished putting the suitcase in the trunk and climbed into the driver's seat.  He took a few moments to adjust the seat and all the mirrors before starting their journey.

The drive to the rehabilitation center was mostly silent, the only noises being the soft revving of the engine.  They had started with the radio on, but Hamish started flipping through the different stations, trying to find something to listen to.  He gave up after a while.  No station seemed to be playing any good music, and the commercials were just making him antsy.

He leaned his head back against the head rest of the seat.  Maybe a nap would help him calm his nerves.  After last night's poor sleep, he was certainly tired enough to fall asleep.  He closed his eyes and tried to relax into the seat, but images from his dreams plagued his mind, preventing him from being able to fall asleep.  It seemed his mind had other ideas of what it wanted to do.  He tried to distract himself with the folder that was sitting in his lap.  It was the folder with all the information about the rehabilitation center that he had gotten from the hospital.  He didn't know why he brought it with him, but he was glad for something to keep his hands busy.

After what felt like an eternity, Fergus pulled through the gates of the rehabilitation center.  Hamish could have sworn that his heart was going to leap out of his chest with how heart and fast it was beating.  He felt a tightness in his chest that was making it difficult to breath.

Fergus pulled into one of the parking spaces and turned off the truck before placing of his hands on Hamish's knee and giving it a squeeze.  "It will be ok Hamish."

Hamish nodded, even though he was finding it harder and harder to believe those words.  He worked so hard his entire existence to avoid being admitted to any kind of place like this, in his human and reaper life.  Now one of his biggest fears was being realized and there was nothing he could do to change that.

"Let's just go home.  I can't do this," Hamish said.

"You have to go, Hamish."

Hamish shook his head.  "No I don't.  I'll be just fine on my own.  You know that."

Fergus climbed out of the truck and walked around to the other side to open Hamish's door.  "Let's go in.  We can get it over with."

"You're not going to take me home no matter how much I beg, are you?"

Fergus's response was a deep, curt grunt.

Hamish frowned and bit his lip.  That meant no.

"Let's go."  Fergus got Hamish's bag out of the trunk.

Hamish slowly climbed out of the trunk and stood next to Fergus.  He had a near death grip on the sleeve of Fergus's sweater.

"You're going to stretch it out," Fergus said with a frown.

"Sorry...  I can't help it."

Fergus wasn't really one for public displays of affection, so it took Hamish by surprise when he offered his hand for Hamish to hold.  Hamish grabbed it and held on tightly.

"Just focus on one day at a time," Fergus said.  "It will be over soon."

"Aye.  One day at a time," Hamish repeated.  "A month is nothing to us.  It'll be over in the blink of an eye."  Hamish wanted so badly to believe it.  But he knew a month of misery could feel like it went on endlessly.

Fergus held on to Hamish with one hand and Hamish's suitcase with the other.  He led Hamish up the stairs and through the front door of the rehabilitation center, and right up to the front desk.

There was a woman sitting at the desk.  She wore a simple white cotton dress with a tartan sweater on top.  She had medium length, curly, ginger hair that was tied back into a messy bun.  Hamish could feel her struggle.  There was no taming hair that curly.

"Hello," the woman said as she looked up from her paperwork.  "How can I help you today?"  Her voice was cheery and had a light Scottish accent to it.

Fergus was silent for a moment, but when he realized Hamish wasn't going to speak up, he did.

"We are checking in."

"Alright."  The lady pulled out a large folder from in front of her.  "Can I have the last name?"

"Caimbeulach," Fergus said.

"Ah!  Mr. Caimbeulach, we've been expecting you."

Hamish could feel a lead weight drop into the pit of his stomach.  Had his reputation really proceeded him this far?

"Just give me one moment to grab your paper work and then we can get you settled into your new room," the lady said.

Hamish merely nodded.

The lady stood up and left the room to go find the admissions paperwork.

Fergus turned to face Hamish.

"It's going to be ok.  She seems nice."

"I know, I know.  I just want to get out of this hell hole already."  As soon as they had entered, the smell of antiseptics had assaulted  Hamish's nose.  The smell didn't usually bother him, especially since he helped out at the hospital in the office frequently, but here, it just made him feel sick to him stomach.

Fergus could see the tint of green that appeared in Hamish's cheeks.

"Are you going to be sick?" Fergus asked.

Hamish shook his head and swallowed hard.  "I just need to sit down for a moment."

Fergus moved the suitcase so that Hamish could sit on top of it.

"Is that better?" Fergus asked.

Hamish nodded.  He had his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

The lady from before returned shortly with the paperwork Hamish needed to fill out attached to a clipboard with a pen.  "Here you- Is everything alright Mr. Caimbeulach?"

Fergus hesitated before speaking up.  "He's nervous."

She smiled understandingly.  "Don't worry Mr. Caimbeulach.  You'll be just fine here in the center.  Trust me."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Hamish mumbled.


End file.
